


Bashert

by Eshusplayground



Category: Triple 9 (2016)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Past Rape/Non-con, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-10-22 04:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10689699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eshusplayground/pseuds/Eshusplayground
Summary: A chance encounter at a bookstore brings DJ into the orbit of Elena Vlaslov and her son Felix. She doesn't expect to find friendship, love and family.





	Bashert

**Author's Note:**

> To give fair warning, this piece is pretty much fluff and smut, but there are a few parts that you need to be aware of. Later on in the story, a rape survivor talks about being raped and the effect it had on her. It's nothing graphic, but if it's not something you can deal with right now, stop at the part that says "too good to last" and pick up again at "DJ lounged on the balcony."
> 
> Also, later on in the story, some minor unnamed characters say ignorant things about Black people and bisexual women. One of them uses a Russian slur for Black people. If that would ruin your reading experience, skip the part that begins with, "Hey, did you hear?" and pick up again at, "For anyone who didn't know her."

When Elena Vlaslov walked into the bookstore with nosebleed-high heels and the most adorable little kid ever, sex was the furthest thing from DJ’s mind. She was a customer who wanted books about dolphins for her son, and being friendly and helpful was her job. Besides, high femmes weren’t DJ’s type. Not that she didn’t think they were pretty, not at all. It’s just that she found them more intimidating than attractive, and too many of them, especially the white ones, expected her to be an aggressive stud type just because she liked to wear comfortable shoes and pants with pockets on them only to be disappointed when she turned out to be as girly as they were and, as She Who Shall Not Be Named put it, terrible in bed.

The scent of vanilla and spices lingered in by the cash register after Elena and her son left. DJ didn’t expect to see her again, but she came back and bought more books for her son, whose name was Felix. Soon, without neither of them quite realizing it, sporadic visits turned into a semi-regular schedule. Elena and Felix came by at least twice a week. They bought something every time and made small talk while DJ rung them up. Somehow, they started talking about each other’s lives, and before they knew it, hours had gone by. They only stopped because Felix got hungry.

Then, DJ did something she never thought she would, not in a million years: she invited Elena out for coffee. She ignored the way her heart fluttered when Elena said yes.

The coffee shop was a little hole-in-the-wall place with good wifi and prices way more reasonable than Starbucks. DJ almost didn’t recognize Elena when she arrived because she wore jeans and sneakers instead of skirts and heels. They exchanged greetings, ordered coffee, and sat at DJ’s favorite table by the window.

“Where’s Felix?” asked DJ.

“With my sister. It’s nice to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Not at work. Away from all those dusty books.”

“Hey, I like those dusty books.”

Elena smiled. DJ’s heart flipped over several times.

Their conversation breezed through the typical stuff about jobs (Elena helps with the family business, something about kosher food), family (DJ’s is scattered all over the South; Elena’s was here in Atlanta or somewhere in Russia or Israel), and life goals (DJ wanted to work at a college library; Elena wanted to be a good mom to Felix). 

Then they started talking about music, hip-hop, and their favorite rappers. DJ was unapologetic about being old school, but Elena leaned toward newer artists. They got into quite a debate about it. The more they argued, the less DJ cared about convincing Elena that old school hip hop was the best, bar none. She paid less attention to the holes in Elena’s arguments than in the way she talked with her hands and matched each facial expression with a mood or feeling. All of Elena’s opinions were filtered through the prism of her emotions. When DJ tried to use facts and figures, Elena’s face went blank, and she went straight to la-la land, but when DJ told her a story or talked about how certain things made her feel, her eyes lit up, and she leaned forward and paid attention. On anyone else, this would’ve been annoying, but something about Elena made this intriguing. It was like getting a glimpse of someone’s inner world and finding treasures they took for granted.

Then, it was almost closing time, much to their mutual disappointment.

“Can I get you another coffee?” asked Elena.

“You don’t have to. It’s no big deal.”

“No, no, don’t worry. We’re friends now.”

 

They met for coffee at least once a week. Then getting coffee together turned into grabbing lunch or dinner at some restaurant that DJ found out about on Yelp. Each time they met, she found out something new about Elena: she was raised in Israel and stayed in the army a year longer than required because, in her words, she had nothing better to do; she liked fast cars and motorcycles and was completely oblivious to how big a nerd she was on those subjects; her greatest achievement was being a mother, and her greatest fear Felix believing she didn’t love him. Eventually, it seemed perfectly natural for them to hang out at each other’s houses for no reason at all. 

When DJ met Elena’s sister, Irina, she barely managed not to call her a rude bitch for giving her the cold shoulder without so much as a, “Go fuck yourself.” 

Whatever her problem was, she and Elena quietly went back and forth about it in Russian. DJ couldn’t swear to it, but she thought she heard Irina mutter the words “jungle fever” at some point. She didn’t know Russian, so she couldn’t be sure.

“What the hell was that about?” asked DJ.

“Nothing,” said Elena, jaw twitching as she spoke, “She’s a bitter, nasty person. She’s angry that she can’t control me anymore, so the only thing she can do is say mean things to people.”

There was a history there, but DJ didn’t push the subject. 

A few weeks later, Elena showed up at her apartment with a small suitcase and a weeping Felix in tow. There had been a fight—an actual fistfight with black eyes and bloody noses, at least on Elena’s end—between the two sisters.

“I’m sorry for doing this,” said Elena, “we didn’t have anywhere else to go that’s not _hers_.”

“It’s OK.”

“I promise we’ll only be here a couple of days,” she said.

“Stay as long as you need.”

Elena put Felix to bed then helped herself to some of DJ’s cheap whiskey. She looked like she needed something stronger.

“Can you believe she used to be nice to me when I was little? I used to look up to her. My big sister. So strong, so smart. I wanted to be like her. But it went away after—will you think I’m crazy if I tell you I still love her?”

“No.”

Elena and Felix stayed for a week.

 

Something changed after that. It was so subtle that it took months of interacting with Elena to be able to see it. Before, there had been a tension Elena carried with her that DJ hadn’t noticed until it was gone. Elena began to truly relax around her, touching DJ in small, affectionate ways: a hug to show appreciation or sympathy, a kiss on the cheek to say hello or goodbye, hooking an arm around her neck or waist just because, a stroke on the back just to let her know she’s there. From time to time, Elena would do a mom thing like fix the collar of her jacket or brush a stubborn crumb off her face while she ate. Sometimes, while playing with Felix, DJ would catch Elena looking at her with soft eyes and a Mona Lisa smile.

“What does DJ stand for?” Elena asked on a nondescript Netflix-and-chill evening.

“Uh, it’s my initials. For my legal name.”

“What is that?”

“Do I have to?”

“Pleeeease.”

“No.”

“Pretty please.”

“No.”

“Pretty, pretty please,” said Elena, pouting comically.

“Fine. It’s…Dorothea Jackson.”

“Dorothea? That’s very pretty.”

“No, it’s not. It makes me sound like an old lady.”

“If you’re very lucky you get to be an old lady.”

“When I get to be an old lady, then people can call me Dorothea, but until then, it’s DJ. Now that you know my deep, dark secret, you can’t ever tell anyone. I mean it. If you tell someone, and they call me Dorothea, I’ll tell them she’s your imaginary friend.”

“I promise not to use it. Unless you make me mad.”

“I’ll be good.”

 

DJ’s phone rang to the tune of “[Boss Ass Bitch](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DN6ihCQZK-r0&t=ZTdjNDkyZWVkYjZlNDAxYWQ0YmIwZGZkOTljMWJiNjkxZjE4ZjZjOCx4ZFZPT0o4cQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AuNUqLH3Im-tbvbZMEYjTzA&p=http%3A%2F%2Feshusplayground.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F156094778705&m=0).” Elena had been in a prankish mood and changed her ringtone to the song. DJ had liked it so much that it had stuck.

“Hello?”

“DJ! DJ!” shouted Felix, “Guess what!”

“What?”

“We’re going to Israel!”

“Israel?”

“Uh-huh. After school lets out.”

“That’s really nice. Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah. And Mommy said you can come with us and swim with the dolphins!”

“Uhhhh, I’d love to come, Felix, but—”

Before DJ could back out, Felix was already shouting with excitement.

“Mommy! Mommy! She said yes!”

Elena picked up the phone, “You can come?”

“Felix made it hard to say no. He’s like his mother like that.”

Elena chuckled, “You can come?”

“Uh…yeah? I think. My credit card won’t thank me, but I think I can do it.”

“No, no, don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of everything. Just pack a few things and be ready. I’ll buy you anything you need.”

Who could say no to that?

 

Israel was _hot_. DJ thought Atlanta was hot. Oh, no. In Atlanta, people could still wear long sleeves without getting heatstroke. In Eilat, which was cooler because it’s closer to the ocean, people didn’t walk around half-naked on the beach to be sexy. They did that because it was too hot to wear pants. The first chance she got, DJ dipped inside a building with air conditioning. Her ecstatic, “OH GOD, YES!” made a couple of elderly American tourists say, “I’ll have what she’s having.”

After DJ got over the heat and jetlag, she had a blast. She went swimming in the sea with Felix and Elena, thrilled at the sight of dolphins in the wild. Sea World had nothing that compared to that. They ate out at a different restaurant every day. Elena bought her a few souvenirs to bring back to the States. DJ wished she could take some of the fruit back, but customs would never allow it.

The first couple of weeks had been a whirlwind of activity, so when they finally had a free weekend, DJ and Elena opted for a quiet night at Elena’s family home. Felix was at a sleepover with some of Elena’s old friends and their children, and the two of them had the jacuzzi all to themselves. They soaked in the bubbling water, gazing at the nocturnal lights of Eilat.

“Do you like Israel?” asked Elena.

“I love it. I kinda don’t wanna leave. Thanks for, uh, paying my way.”

“It’s nothing. I am glad you’re here.”

They sat together in silence. It was strange. DJ would normally feel compelled to talk because silence always felt awkward, but with Elena, it was comforting. DJ glanced at her. Elena had closed her eyes and stretched out her arms along the rim of the jacuzzi, relaxed as a house cat.

Not for the first time, she was struck by how naturally gorgeous Elena was, from her shining mane of thick, dark hair to her perfectly shaped toenails. Even her earlobes were beautiful. It would be easy to feel insecure around her. In high school, DJ would have hated Elena without knowing the first thing about her, and it would’ve been a shame because Elena was, aside from being a great mom, so sweet and generous and loyal and fun.

As if sensing DJ’s gaze upon her, she turned to her and gave her a faint grin. It made DJ feel…she wasn’t sure what.

“Come here,” said Elena, tilting her head in that way she did sometimes when something amused her or caught her interest. 

“Why?”

Elena grinned, “Come here.”

DJ slid along the rim of the jacuzzi toward her. This was nice. Suddenly, Elena leaned toward her. She got closer, closer… 

Warm, soft hands cupped her face. Wet, pliant lips pressed against hers. The kiss was so gentle that DJ almost thought it didn’t happen, but Elena was grazing her perfectly manicured thumb against her lips, eyes boring into her as if searching for—oh. _Oh!_  

Something clicked, and all the feelings she’d been suppressing from the moment she met Elena came rushing to the surface, sending shockwaves pulsing through her entire body. A series of loud, sharp gasps tore through her. What was happening to her? Was she having a seizure? Was she dying? It was divine! Then, as suddenly as it came, it was gone.

DJ gripped the edge of the jacuzzi to keep standing. Elena was staring at her.

“What just happened?” asked DJ.

“I don’t know,” said Elena, “Can you do it again?”

 

After they dried off, Elena led DJ to her bedroom and laid her on the king-size bed. She looked into DJ’s eyes, gently awakening her skin with soft caresses. 

“Is it like that every time?” Elena asked.

“I don’t know. That never happened before.”

“No? Never?”

DJ shook her head. Great. Now Elena would find out just how much experience she didn’t have. DJ pinched the blanket beneath her and looked away. She couldn’t bear to see Elena’s disappointment.

“Oh,” said Elena, her voice tinged with surprise, “you’re a virgin.”

DJ bit her lip. Was her utter hopelessness in the sack  _that_ obvious?

"I—I’ve had it—I mean, sex—before,” she stammered.

"No orgasm?”

“Um…kinda, almost? No.”

DJ cringed at what Elena must’ve thought of her. Cold. Prude. Dried up. Frigid.

“Can I take this off?” whispered Elena. DJ nodded before she could stop herself. Elena deftly unfastened the snap buttons holding her bathing suit up then slowly peeled it off. DJ tried to cross her arms over her imperfect breasts and cross her legs to hide her imperfect Down There, but Elena parted her legs and uncrossed her arms.

“So beautiful,” she whispered, “Like a painting I can touch.”

Elena grazed her fingers along DJ’s nakedness. With each pass of those slender fingers across her neck, breasts, and thighs, DJ’s nervousness melted away. Something inside her awakened from its hibernation. She no longer cared about not being pretty enough or skilled enough. She wanted to feel and taste and touch. She parted her lips for Elena’s tongue and spread her thighs for Elena’s slender, solid weight on top of her.

“I want to be your first,” Elena said between kisses, “Can I?”

DJ nodded. Elena cupped her between the legs, humming with satisfaction. DJ rolled her hips into her palm.

“So ready,” whispered Elena. She gently rubbed DJ’s aching bud. DJ was already so close, so close. Her legs spread wider. Elena’s tongue plunged deeper into her mouth as her fingers thrust inside, making her whole body shudder.

“Do you like that?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Do you want my mouth there?”

“Unnngh.”

“Be a good girl and come for me?”

The way Elena said it, both encouraging and demanding, struck a match that became a throbbing, white-hot flame that spread all through her, incinerating all thought of anything but the sound and taste and feel of Elena, who gently kissed and licked her way down her neck, paused to fondle and suck her breasts, continued her way down, down, down…

Then DJ remembered that she hadn’t shaved anything in a while. She must’ve looked and smelled like something dragged in from the woods. Elena’s eager mouth devoured her and silenced such thoughts. A low moan vibrated into DJ’s core. Elena liked doing this? To her? The realization sent tiny waves of pleasure rippling through her body, growing in intensity as Elena drank deeply between her thighs, until her body erupted in seismic tremors.

Elena held her close and peppered her face with kisses.

“What about you?” asked DJ.

“Hm?”

“Don’t you want me to, um, do you?”

Elena smiled, “Tonight is for you.”

“No, no, I want to. I just—I’m no good at it, but…I wanna be. I can try. I mean, if you show me.”

Elena quirked an eyebrow, “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“OK.”

Elena stood on the edge of the bed and untied her bikini top. It fell to the floor, exposing glorious breasts. DJ had to look away to keep from pouncing on her.

“Go on. If you want to,” said Elena. No sooner had she said it that DJ grabbed her, pulled her close, and latched onto her breast, taking as much into her mouth as she could, swirling her tongue around one nipple then switching to the other and starting over again. Sucking just a bit harder and gently biting Elena’s breast earned DJ a gasp and a flinch followed by a groan. Was that good? She did it again. 

“Is that OK?” asked DJ. Elena dug her fingers into her hair and guided her back to her breast. When she’d had enough, she bent forward and gave DJ a deep, sloppy kiss. 

“How’d I do? Was I OK?”

“More than OK,” said Elena. She swayed slightly as if she was drunk and trying to hide it.

“What do I do now?”

“I think you know,” said Elena. Her eyes flicked down and back up again. What did she— _oh_. DJ reached for Elena’s waist and slowly unwrapped the sheer skirt. Only the bikini bottom remained. DJ hesitated. If she stopped now, Elena wouldn’t have to find out how horrible she was at this. She was about to, already imagining herself thanking Elena for her time and slinking back to her room to fantasize and berate herself for her stupidity. But what happened was something else.

Elena gently took DJ’s hand and placed it on the waistband of her bikini. DJ swallowed and closed her eyes as she slid the bikini down her legs with shaking hands. With each breath, she inhaled a scent like musky seawater.

“It will help if you look,” said Elena, a teasing lilt in her voice. DJ gathered her courage and peeked. God, even her pubic hair was perfect. How could she even hope to—

“You can touch me,” said Elena, cupping her face to reassure her. As softly as she could, DJ rubbed her fingers against wet, silky heat. Elena’s breath hitched. DJ was stunned. Had she really done that? She did it again, stroking and probing with a barely-there touch, cataloging every gasp, every moan, every hiss, every whimper, every yelp.

“Stop,” growled Elena, “No more teasing.”

She pushed DJ to the floor, almost a shove, and pulled her forward. DJ’s mouth glided onto Elena’s arousal. She kissed, licked, and sucked the juicy, succulent flesh until she could not tell where she ended and Elena began. Meanwhile, Elena muttered the filthiest, most wonderful things. Most of it must have been Russian or Hebrew, but there were a few snippets in English that sounded like: _that’s it…do you like that?…so beautiful like this…harder…feel so good…touch yourself…oh, shit…don’t stop, baby…fuck!_

Elena let out a loud, feral cry, clenching her fists in DJ’s hair.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry,” said Elena, breathless. She massaged DJ’s scalp to ease the pain.

“Was I OK?” asked DJ.

“You said you were bad at this.”

“I was—I mean, I am.”

Elena shook her head, “Someone lied to you.”

They collapsed together on the bed and waited for their breathing to get back to normal. DJ made herself comfortable and snuggled next to Elena then fell asleep to the sound of Elena’s heartbeat.

 

It was hard to keep their hands off each other after that. Every moment they had alone, they had sex. They didn’t limit themselves to the bedroom, either. They had trysts in the shower, the living room, the car, and even the balcony. Every time Felix’s back was turned, they sneaked kisses and discreetly squeezed a buttock, a breast, or a crotch.

Of course, it was too good to last.

They were at a pool party with Felix and his playmates. Children splashed in the pool, laughing and squealing with delight while their mothers kept an eye on them.

Elena’s phone came alive with the theme from _Psycho_ , which meant it was Irina. Elena answered with a sigh and an eyeroll worthy of the most sullen teeenager. She spoke in Russian about something or other that must have been very unpleasant. DJ didn’t understand the words, but she sensed Elena’s anger, fear, and rising panic coming off her in powerful waves. Then Elena hung up and hurled the phone into the wall, smashing it to bits.

“What was that ab—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

For the rest of the pool party, Elena was quiet, tense, and withdrawn. She perked up slightly when Felix hugged her on their way to the car. She went on autopilot once they got home, getting Felix one last snack and putting him to bed without her usual attentiveness. He seemed to pick up on her mood, so he didn’t make a fuss about not being tired as he usually would. DJ went to check on him to make sure he was alright.

“Is Mommy mad at me?” he asked.

“No. Mommy’s not mad at you.”

“Why is she mad?”

“Grownup stuff.”

“OK.”

“Goodnight.”

DJ found Elena on the balcony smoking a cigarette. When had she picked up _that_ habit?

“You smoke?” she asked.

“Not for a long time,” Elena said. She blew out a long stream of smoke that curled and twisted then disappeared.

“Why now?”

“If you’re just gonna give me shit, don’t bother.”

“I’m not. Felix was worried about you.”

Elena flicked some ashes. She seemed to have calmed down.

“Is he OK?” she asked.

“Yeah, he’s fine.”

Elena flung the cigarette over the balcony and slouched into one of the chairs. That was odd. Elena _never_ slouched.

“I don’t like for him to see me this way. I have to be strong for him. His father used to help, but he’s…not around anymore.”

DJ sat in the other chair and scooted closer to her.

“What happened?”

“Vasili—my sister’s husband is moving to Atlanta.”

“Bad news?”

Elena looked away.

“Why?”

“Are you sure you wanna hear this?” asked Elena.

“Of course. I wanna help.”

Elena scoffed, “No one can help me.”

It hurt to hear that. It wasn’t fair of Elena to blow her off like this, but the phone call from Irina obviously opened up a deep wound, so her lashing out wasn’t abnormal. For long moments, they just sat there. Then, Elena spoke.

“I was twelve or thirteen when Irina met Vasili. They fell in love, never apart, not for long, so I hated him. You have to understand. Irina and I are sisters, but she was more like a mother to me. My mother left my father—our father—after giving birth to me. So, Irina was the one to raise me. Then Vasili came, and my thinking was that he was stealing her from me. Irina wasn’t worried. She said I would get used to him, and I did. I got used to him being around.

“One night, there was this party. Vasili was there. It was very late, and I was tired, so I was going to bed, but Vasili—he grabbed me and said that he wasn’t going to let me go until I gave him a goodnight kiss. Back then, I thought he was doing it to treat me like a baby and make fun of me. I was tired, in a bad mood, so I told him to go fuck himself. His friends laughed at him. He didn’t like that. I didn’t care.

“I was asleep. I don’t know how long. But I wake up, and I feel someone come in my room. It was Vasili. I asked him if he wanted something. He didn’t say anything. Then he came into my bed on top of me, and he…um…he forced himself on me. While he was…doing it, he told me to be quiet, but he didn’t have to because I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I was a statue. And he was saying ugly things to me, calling me names.

“It hurt. It hurt so much. There was blood the next day. I was—I was a virgin when he did that to me. After he…finished, he told me, ‘You want to be a woman now? This is what women do.’ I was fifteen years old.

“All my problems started after that. I stopped caring about school. I didn’t want any friends. I started fooling around with boys. I felt dirty. Used. Like toilet paper. So it was my thinking that it didn’t matter what I did. I was already ruined. I thought about killing myself so many times, but I couldn’t try it because Irina would be the one to find me, and I couldn’t do that to her. I wanted to tell her what happened. I never lied to her, never kept secrets from her, and she always knew if I did something naughty anyway. So I was thinking: maybe she already knew, and that’s why she was always so disappointed in me.”

Elena wiped tears from her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she said. DJ rubbed her back and smooched her on the cheek.

“It’s OK. Did you tell Irina?”

Elena nodded, “I tried. She didn’t believe me. She said I was doing it for attention and that if Vasili really did come into my room, it was because I wanted it. That was when she really started to hate me.”

“Did you tell anyone else?”

Elena shook her head, “Only you. Do you believe me? You believe me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“You’re not disgusted with me? You’re disgusted. I can tell in your face.”

“No, no, not you. It’s him. Only him.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

DJ’s wanted to say something to make it better, but the words wouldn’t come. It was as if they had been weighed down by her insides, which felt like they were made of lead. She held Elena tight, hoping that her embrace said it for her: that what happened to her was not her fault; that her own sister should’ve believed her, protected her, fought for her; that she was not unclean because of what this man did to her; that she wasn’t weak or stupid because a bad person chose to do her harm; that she was ten times better than they were because she’d do for Felix in a heartbeat what no one did for her.

Elena calmed a little and said, “Now Irina tells me that Vasili is coming home and wants to see his family. He wants to see me and meet Felix. He will never come anywhere near my son. I will kill him if he touches him.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I have to go back to the States. It will go worse for everyone if I insult Vasili by not going.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked.

“No!” said Elena, wincing at the sharpness of her tone. 

She continued more softly, “No. You’re—you’re nothing like my family. You’re a good person, and you make me a better person. I’d never forgive myself if they—if something happened to you.”

She stroked DJ’s cheek and said, “Stay here? Please? Stay and take care of Felix while I’m away. Will you do that for me?”

“Sure.”

That night, Elena made love to DJ with such tenderness that she wept. Elena held her and licked away her tears, raining kisses on her as if it was the last time she would ever get the chance. They lay together beneath the cool breeze that came in from the sea.

“ _Ahuvati_?” asked Elena. She’d taken to calling her that since their first time together.

“Hm?”

“If I do something terrible, will you hate me forever?”

“Something terrible? Like what?”

Elena didn’t answer.

“What are you going to do?” asked DJ.

“What I have to.”

DJ woke up with the sunrise. Elena was gone.

 

As she promised, DJ took over for Elena and took care of Felix. After cooking and cleaning, washing and drying, shopping and playdates, sightseeing and napping, and bathing and putting Felix to bed, she was almost too tired to miss Elena. How she made it all look so effortless was a cosmic mystery.

Yet, there were moments that made DJ’s heart clench with longing: a sickeningly loving couple walking down the street holding hands; at the beach, a mother and child tossing a huge, light ball back and forth; lying on that big, empty bed by herself at night; Felix asking when his mommy was coming back.

When she had time to herself, Elena’s parting words haunted her. What had she meant by doing something terrible? What was it she felt she had to do? DJ could put two and two together. Elena’s family was probably involved in something illegal. Elena never gave any details about exactly what her family did to get all that money, and whenever DJ asked, her answers were evasive. She didn’t judge. No one could help where they came from, and Elena wasn’t deeply involved in whatever it was that they were doing. But…what if she was? Would she lie about that? Was it a mistake to trust Elena? Had she been too enchanted by Elena to think straight?

What if it was all true? What if the family business was being in the Russian mafia? What did they do? Was it drugs? Guns? Something even worse? What kind of person did it make her if, despite it all, she knew she wouldn’t leave? Whenever DJ watched movies about organized crime, she never understood why the wives and girlfriends didn’t drop their husbands and boyfriends like hot potatoes when they found out they were selling dope or killing people. Now it made sense. Those women stuck around because they knew that those men would do the same thing for them. Elena was the same way. DJ knew for a fact that there was nothing Elena wouldn’t do for her. She knew it the way she knew that water was wet and that the sun rose in the east. It was scary to know that. Scary, overwhelming, and a little exciting.

Her luggage was in the closet. All she had to do was pack the essentials and get back to Atlanta. Then she could go back to the life where the only place she came across the Russian mafia was in the movies. She could do that, but did she want to?

“Fuck me,” DJ said with a sigh.

 

DJ lounged on the balcony sipping the herbal tea she dug out of Elena’s cabinet. Sunset painted the sky the colors of the rainbow. DJ sipped and relished the soothing heat as it went down her throat.

Suddenly, she was blind, but she recognized a familiar vanilla-and-spice fragrance.

“Guess who?”

“Hold on. I know this one.”

DJ pulled Elena’s hands off her eyes and turned—holy shit. Elena was dressed to kill in a deep red dress and matching lipstick and stilettos. Smoky eyeshadow made her look exotic and inscrutable like a sphinx. DJ stood on her toes and kissed her, tasting wax and red. Elena brought her closer and deepened the kiss. One hand squeezed her ass.

“Be careful,” said Elena, “I can get used to saying hi like this.”

DJ parted from her. It was hard.

“Where’s Felix?” Elena asked.

“In his room, knocked out. He had a busy day. Um, what’s the occasion?”

Elena took DJ by the hand and slowly twirled her one, two, three times then pulled her flush against her. She hugged her from behind and smooched her neck and shoulders. It tickled. DJ laughed. Elena seemed so light, as if a huge burden had been lifted. She looked like she could dance on air if she wanted to.

“Vasili is gone for good,” said Elena.

“What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. He will never bother us again. And that is the last time I will talk or think about him. I can live now.”

“I’m glad.”

“I have a present for you, _ahuvati_ ,” Elena said. She led DJ to the bedroom where a black plastic bag sat on the bed. Elena held it out to her. DJ slipped her hand inside. She touched cool, plastic, rubber, and…suede? No, leather. Her fingers closed around something, and arced an eyebrow at the bottle of lube in her hand. A lot of lube. She peeked at the other objects.

“You really like purple,” said DJ.

“Pick one.”

“Just one?”

“Or more.”

“Why?”

“So we can try it.”

“Try it? Right now?”

“Mm-hmmm. I have a lot of energy tonight.”

“Uh, I dunno. Which one do you like?”

Elena picked up a purple…thing shaped like a phallus on one end and a weird, curvy abstract sculpture on the other.

“I think you will like this. See, on this end, it goes inside, and it sits right next to your G-spot. And on this side, it feels like real skin. Touch it, you’ll see.”

“I haven’t touched a real penis since—oh! Wow. It does feel real.”

Caressing DJ’s face, Elena asked, “Can I fuck you with it?”

DJ’s libido awakened with a vengeance. How much she’d missed having sex with Elena! Now that she was back, they had all sorts of catching up to do. DJ’s vulva agreed and immediately ripened. Her clothes were off in the blink of an eye. Elena chuckled.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Fuck my brains out, I hope.”

Elena’s answer was to unzip her dress and let it slide to the floor. In another state of mind, DJ would think that that dress was far too lovely to be there, but her mouth was too busy watering at the lacy lingerie Elena had worn beneath it. DJ touched herself as she watched Elena slip on the harness and adjust the straps.

“Did you do that a lot while I was gone?”

“It wasn’t the same.”

“Awww, poor baby. It’s OK,” said Elena, crawling on top of her, “Mommy’s home.”

They held each other and kissed deeply, urgently touching breasts and buttocks, cupping vulvae and sucking the skin on each other’s necks, but it wasn’t enough. DJ needed more. She needed it _now_.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Hm?”

“Fuck me. Please fuck me.”

“I love how you beg. Turn around. I want you from behind.”

DJ obeyed, pushing aside the few toys that were in the way. She peeked at Elena. The purple dildo in its harness would’ve looked silly on anybody else, including her, but on Elena, it looked naughty and sexy. The bed dipped beneath Elena’s weight as she moved into position. Dexterous fingers stroked the wetness between DJ’s legs. The cap on the lube snapped open then shut. Something thick and bulbous brushed against her clit then slid inside and… _oh, God_!

“It’s OK?” asked Elena. It sounded like she was struggling to stay coherent. Did this feel good for her too?

“I’m OK.”

“How do you want it, baby? Slow and soft, like this?”

“Ooooh, ungh!”

“Or fast and hard, like this?”

“Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ah! Fuck!”

“How you want it?”

“Slow and—ah! Hard.”

Elena drove into her, fucking her hard and steady. God, she was a machine. DJ fell into the rhythm and sensation. Her core quivered in time with each of Elena’s thrusts.

“Hurting you?” asked Elena, rough and guttural. 

DJ shook her head, “Don’t stop.”

Some time later, when she would be capable of rational thought, DJ would muse that a big part of what excited her about Elena fucking her raw was witnessing someone who projected so put-together an image of womanhood being so overcome with raw animal passion (for her!) that she would toss aside all pretense of trying to be feminine, instead surrendering herself to erotic abandon. The grunts and groans coming out of DJ’s throats weren’t ladylike either.

“I—I have to stop,” panted Elena. DJ slid off the toy and looked at her. The skin on Elena’s face, neck, and chest was red as a tomato. Her makeup was a mess. Sweat shimmered all over her body. How long had they been at this?

“Let me help,” said DJ. She undid the harness. It and the glistening wet dildo plopped onto the bed. She helped Elena lie down and got her a glass of water and a cool, damp cloth. She wiped the sweat and makeup off Elena’s face.

“You OK?” asked DJ, petting her gently the way she’d seen Elena do for Felix countless times. Elena nodded.

“I just need rest. And a long shower.”

“OK. Rest now. Shower later. Sex again tomorrow.”

Elena smiled weakly.

 

DJ woke up to the smell of food. Still half-asleep, she staggered out of bed and followed the smell to the kitchen. Felix and Elena sat at the small table eating a breakfast of eggs, toast, and fruit. She waved to them both and plopped into the empty chair with a plate in front of it. With each bite of food, her sleepiness faded.

“What are we doing today?” she asked.

Elena shrugged, “Anything you want.”

“Even skydiving?”

Elena chuckled and rubbed DJ’s knee. She said, “Wasn’t there something we had to finish together?”

DJ almost choked on her orange juice. One of these days, Felix was going to figure it out or catch them in the act. Exactly how traumatizing would that be for him?

“Felix, Mommy and DJ have to talk about something. Why don’t you go play with your new toys?”

DJ blushed at the mention of toys. Felix happily hopped off his chair and ran to his room. DJ continued eating her breakfast.

“Let’s get married,” Elena said.

“Married? When?”

“When we get back to the States.”

“May I ask what brought this on?”

“I am in love with you, and I’m selfish, so I want to keep you in my life.”

“What about Felix?”

“He adores you.”

“What’s your sister gonna think?”

“Do you really care?”

“No, but I’m interested.”

“Well…the truth is it’s unlikely that she will ever come to accept you. She never accepted Michael either, and he was Felix’s father. She…doesn’t like black people very much. She doesn’t like gay people either.”

That explained everything about Irina’s shitty attitude when Elena brought DJ to meet her. What didn’t make sense was how she could be so crazy about Felix and spoil him rotten every chance she got.

“But she—” said DJ, lowering her voice, “how can someone hate black people and love a black nephew? And doesn’t she know you’re bisexual?”

Elena laughed and said, “Irina doesn’t believe in bisexuals.”

“How does that work?”

“She thinks that bisexuals are gay men who can’t admit it or straight women doing it for attention.”

“I don’t get it. Why is Felix the exception? What if he turns out to be gay or bi or whatever?”

“He’s family.”

DJ laughed. That was so messed up. It’s a miracle that Elena came away from that without being a bigot just like her. Then again, thought DJ, maybe she hadn’t seen it yet.

“What’s wrong?” Elena asked.

“I don’t know how to say this.”

“Don’t worry. You can tell me anything. Just say it.”

“Uh…people aren’t born racist. They learn it from the people around them. How can I be sure that none of that stuff in Irina rubbed off on you?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I mean, what if one day down the road I do something you don’t like, and you bring my race into it or what if something racist happens to me, and I try to tell you about it, and you don’t believe me? Or you tell me I’m being paranoid or I’m blowing it all out of proportion or—or you just don’t wanna hear it! You have no idea how much that would—that would hurt me!”

When she finished talking, DJ was crying. How could she have been so stupid? They should’ve talked about this a long time ago. How did she forget something as huge as this? She felt Elena sit in her lap, wrap her arms around her, and stroke her hair.

“Shhh, shhh, don’t cry, _neshama_ , don’t cry. I won’t do that to you.”

“You can’t know that—”

“I will listen. I will believe you,” cooed Elena, “I promise. OK? I promise.”

DJ nodded into Elena’s bosom. She said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your special moment.”

“Don’t say that. Nothing was ruined. What do you need, _neshama_? Hm? What do you need?”

“I need…I need time.”

Elena held her tight.

 

Hey, did you hear? Elena Vlaslov’s getting married. Who? Elena Vlaslov. Irina’s sister. Irina has a sister? Yeah, remember? She’s the hot one. Ohhh, her!

Guess what? I heard she’s marrying a woman. What? Is she gay? That’s impossible; she’s way too pretty to be gay. She might be one of those sluts that call themselves bisexual. Bisexual, yeah right. She just needs a good, hard fuck is all. I’d be glad to help.

That’s not what I heard. I heard he was black. Didn’t she get knocked up by some black guy? Ugh, I can’t imagine. If it was me, I’d have given it up. What would a beautiful girl like that want with an _abizyana_ anyway? C’mon, you know why. They’re ugly and stupid, and they smell, but they’ve got big dicks.

So are you going to the wedding? Yeah, why not? It’s free food.

 

For anyone who didn’t know her, it was the shock of the century that the gorgeous but elusive and temperamental Elena Vlaslov married some nobody. For those who did know her, this wedding was just another one of her childish whims, and they’d split up within a week. Irina, who knew her best out of all of them, didn’t say anything.

Whatever brought those two lovebirds together, it certainly wasn’t the other bride’s looks. When they saw her under the _chuppah_ , they thought that she was alright but too chubby and too black to be anything more than cute. Yet, it was obvious to everyone they made each other happy. Once the wedding party started, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. The wine and vodka flowed, but they barely touched any of it. They didn’t need to, for they were already drunk on one another. Not a moment passed by when they didn’t hug, kiss, hold hands, stare into each other’s eyes, or whisper secrets in one another’s ears. Elena’s eyes sparkled. She smiled and laughed and danced up a storm, pulling everyone into her cyclone of joyous energy. Some of the elderly people quipped that Elena should have been named Miriam.

The girl must have done something right.

 

In the bosom of the master bedroom of their new apartment, DJ and Elena slowly made love, tenderly exploring and worshiping every part of each other’s bodies as if for the very first time. Several orgasms later, DJ lay atop Elena and licked the sweat trickling down her neck while they stewed in the afterglow.

“I can’t believe someone told you you were bad at this,” Elena said.

DJ kissed her. She said, “Where do you wanna go for the honeymoon? Don’t say Israel.”

“You like Israel.”

“Yes, but—”

“Felix likes Israel.”

“Yeah, but you already know everything about Israel. I wanna go someplace neither of us has been before. I wanna…experience the process of discovery with you. Let’s…let’s go on a safari.”

“No way. I like air conditioning. Listen, _neshama_. Pick what you want. As long as we go together, I don’t care. I’ll go. But, if I go, we have to bring some of our plaything with us.”

DJ kissed her deeply and said, “You have a deal, Ms. Vlaslov. I was planning to bring that anyway.”

“Clever girl.”

They kissed lazily and held each other until dawn.


End file.
